


Who framed Mr. Vibrator?

by Autheane



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Crack, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiproquos, Rimming, Sex Toys, abuse of mutant powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autheane/pseuds/Autheane
Summary: Erik has a new neighbor. Everything would be for the best if she didn't spend all her nights having fun with her vibrator.When Erik can't take more of the grating sensation against his senses, he decides to take matters in his own  hands.





	Who framed Mr. Vibrator?

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Qui veut la peau de Mr Vibro?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302964) by [Autheane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autheane/pseuds/Autheane). 



> All this came from the idea that Erik would be able to feel if someone was using a sextoy made of metal not far from him. And from a little scene, this monster of a PWP was born. 
> 
> This is a little birthday gift for the all too sweet and very talented Mikanskey as a thank you for all the amazing stories she shares with us. 
> 
> The story is not beta-ed, there might be mistakes ahead.  
> The non-con tag is more to stay on the safe side than anything else. See the end notes for more details. 
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Erik just gets back from his parents, his arms loaded with all kind of items, like every week. 

He might well be 34 now, be independent and make good money, every Saturday, his mother gives him enough to feed the whole neighborhood along with various knick-knacks that have caught her attention and that, according to her, will prove to be indispensable. 

He could protest, tell her he’s not a child anymore, that she doesn’t need to do all this for him, that he’s doing well enough for himself. 

He had incidentally, already tried a few years back. His mother had crossed her arms over her chest, had looked at him in a way making Erik feel like he was eleven again and had just been caught melting the bicycle of the neighbor’s son. She had then asked him if a mother didn’t have the right to pamper her only son as much as she wanted to, to show him how much she loved him. What could he answer to that if not telling her that he loved her too and kiss her cheek? His mother had smiled at him, apparently delighted by his answer and as soon as she had her back turned, his father had patted him on the shoulder and looked at him sympathetically, telling him that the sooner he’d accept that he could not contradict his mother, the easier things would be for him. 

He had accepted his fate since then and his mother was all too happy about it. 

Erik smiles at the memory shaking his head. His mother was a force of nature against which nothing could be done. He often thought that it was a good thing she was someone infinitely good or everyone would have become her puppet by now. 

Erik climbs the last of the stairs leading to his floor trying to balance the fleece tartan rug, the sweater and the two shirts which “will make his eyes stand out beautifully”, the frying pan and the Tupperware of various size in his arms without dropping them. He tells himself he should keep at least one bag in the trunk of his car for this kind of occasion, just like he does every week. 

He looks through his pockets for his apartment’s keys with his powers, mumbling under his breath when he doesn’t find them at their usual place when he looks up and sees long blond hair walking dangerously back towards him. He steps aside just in time to avoid collision with the young woman but the swift movement provokes the fall of the frying pan that goes clanging to the floor. 

The young woman startles and turns to him, apologizing while bending down to retrieve the pan and give it back to him. Erik nods in thanks and looks behind her. Facing his apartment door, two piles of cardboard boxes, a small wooden bookcase and plants are lined against the wall. 

Ah, it seemed like he had just met his new neighbor. 

He looks back at her and notices she has followed his eyes to the pile. 

"Sorry for all the mess, I can assure you that it’ll be out of your sight in no time. Moving in is always pretty chaotic." she tells him smiling. 

Erik takes a second to observe her. She’s a very pretty woman, around 25, with blue grey eyes nicely shaped, pale skin and long blond wavy hair falling to her chest. She gives the impression of a doll who would have taken human shape. 

"I’m Raven." She tells him, her hand extended to shake his before seeming to remember that his arms are loaded with various things, then she just shakes her hand in a kind of salute a child would give. 

"Erik." he answers her with a small nod of the head, a small laughing smile drawing on his lips. 

"Raven !!!" A man shouts from the apartment making Erik’s eyebrows climb up his forehead in surprise and the young woman grimace. 

"I’m sorry, I have to go back. It was nice to meet you, Erik. See you around." she tells him before disappearing into the apartment without giving time to Erik to answer her. 

At first look, his new neighbor doesn’t seem too bad. Polite, apparently nice and easy on the eyes. He just hopes she won’t be noisy or even invasive. 

He didn’t know yet that it would be way worse than that. 

___

Erik startles awake, disoriented for a moment, lying in wait for the noise that tore him from his dreams so suddenly, letting his mind sweep away the bleary fog of sleep to extend his senses. 

Nothing moves around him and everything is silent, only a pulsing wave vibrates against the invisible currents only he can sense. The pulsations are regular, more or less strong, reminding him of an engine, small and very chaotic. 

Erik frowns leaning on his elbow to straighten up a little, his mind still clouded with sleep. 

He extends his powers little more to try to determinate what is provoking the way too irritating vibrations. It’s a bit like someone was snoring right in his ear. Horribly displeasing. 

He examines the parts of the small engine, its shape, the way the mechanisms interlock. 

All of a sudden, Erik realizes that the small engine is in motion, a constant back and forth and then, the beat changes, they become a little longer and stronger. 

Erik grunts and falls back on his pillow. 

It seems like his new neighbor has a friend named Mr. Vibrator. 

Perfect. 

Well, there wasn’t much to do if to wait until she was done. 

The advantage of living in a high-class building was soundproofing. The only drawback was that it wasn’t built to block the magnetic pulsations from sextoys. Maybe he should have a word with the superintendent about it. 

Erik turns over in his bed trying to ignore the vibrations in vain. Hopefully, not long after, everything falls silent again and Erik goes back to sleep peacefully. 

___

It’s two in the morning and Erik starts to consider the fact that his neighbor might be a nymphomaniac considering the frequency with which Mr. Vibrator makes itself felt. 

Since she has moved in, there hasn’t been a night when it hasn’t been used. Somedays, Mr. Vibrator could have fun with Raven up to five times. 

Erik has nothing against the need to satisfied sexual desires whatever they may be, on the contrary, he even thinks it’s healthy, but he never cursed anyone as much as the creator of vibrators in his whole life. 

Erik can’t take it anymore. He’s exhausted. He needs his seven hours of sleep if he wants to be on top at the office. Now, not only his sleep schedule is broken each night, but on top of that, the more days pass, the less he can stand the grating sensation of the stupid sextoy. His escalating irritation makes it harder and harder for him to go back to sleep once his neighbor’s business is concluded and in consequence, he’s being incredibly bitchy at work. 

Erik grabs his pillow and presses it against his face to bite into it. 

It has to stop. 

He lets go of his pillow, takes a deep breath, extend his powers and switches off Mr. Vibrator. 

“Ahhh, finally!” He sighs in relief from the satisfaction of doing what he was itching to do for several days now. 

A few seconds later, the vibrations start again, like Erik was expecting, and he wastes no time switching it off again. 

After seven vain attempts to get Mr. Vibrator to work again, Raven seems to give up the fight and puts it on the side. 

Finally! 

It may not be ethical of Erik to do something like this, but enough is enough! And it’s not like Raven could guess he was the cause of the sudden breakdown of his most loyal companion anyway. 

He fluffs his pillow and rests his head on it before closing his eyes and falling back asleep a few minutes later, mind appeased. 

___

This little game becomes routine for Erik. Each time he feels Mr. Vibrator start up, he just switches it off. 

His neighbor probably thinking Mr. Vibrator is defective, buys a new one which, unfortunately for her, will catch the same virus than Mr. Vibrator, just like the next one, and the next after it. 

Erik would have scruples if he was someone concerned about this kind of thing. This not being the case, he even grins like the Cheshire cat. 

___

Charles is frustrated. 

He was very happy up to this point. Delighted to move in his new apartment, about his new neighborhood, his neighbors, his new job at the university, his colleagues... 

Everything was going really well and yet, he was incredibly frustrated. 

He loved his new position as a teacher, but he had to adapt to his new schedule and the pressure that represented such a large crowd of students with their attention riveted on him almost all day. 

Charles had learned, since long, to handle the pressure of hundreds of minds around him, the sensation had become simple background noise for him. But it was different when each person around him had their attention aimed at him, it was a bit like each student in the auditorium was screaming his name at the top of their lungs at the same time to catch his attention. 

He managed to face it, but when the day was over, his head resembled more a construction site decimated by a jackhammer than a peaceful and sweet wheat field stirred by a gentle breeze. And the best way for him to relax was either to get away from everything and everyone, but he loved civilization way too much for that, or to allow his body to relieve all the tension accumulated during the day. And what better method was there than orgasm? 

Considering he was single since a few months and that, scouring bars for potential partners asked for time and effort, Charles turned to his most loyal partner after his right hand, Michael. 

Michael was his favorite vibrator, he never failed to make him see stars whenever he felt like it. 

But, for almost two weeks now, Michael had been left untouched. It seemed that after many years of good and loyal services, Michael didn’t work perfectly anymore, to Charles’ biggest dismay. 

He had then acquired a replacement, and this was when things had started to take on a strange turn, because Scott had suffered the same fate, just like Steve and Tony after him. 

He didn’t know what to do nor think. 

So, when his longtime friend, Moira, had invited him for a drink at her place to relax after noticing how much he needed it, Charles had accepted without being told twice. 

He’s at his third glass of Whisky and feels the alcohol diffuse a little bit of the tension in him. He passes his hand over his face and through his hair sighing and rests his body against the back of the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you so much? I thought you were happy about your new position?” She asks him concerned. He shakes his head in response. 

“That’s not it, I love my job. I need some more time to adapt though.” He makes a move towards his head for her to understand that he is talking about his powers. 

“You’re a powerful telepath and someone very talented, I’m sure you’ll get there quickly, there’s no reason not to. You’ve always overcome everything life threw in your direction, it’ll be ok, you’ll see.” Moira tells him in a reassuring tone but not seeming entirely convinced by his answer, she adds: “Are you sure there’s nothing more worrying you?” 

At her question, Charles feels himself blush unintendedly, forcing his eyes to remain fixed to the ceiling. There's nothing he nor Moira hide to each other though. 

Of course, his silence says a lot and Charles feels a wave of concern grow in his friend’s mind. 

“Charles?” 

“There’s nothing serious, don’t worry. In fact, you’re certainly going to laugh and mock me as soon as I’ll have explained the situation.” He tells him looking at her with a derisory smile. He straightens up and grabs his glass from the coffee table, finishing it in one go before putting it back down sharply. 

Sensing the juicy story coming, she turns fully to him, sitting crossed legged facing him on the couch, a mischievous smile stretching her lips. 

“I’m all ears.” 

Charles shakes his head, smiling at his friend’s attitude. She never got tired of his misfortune. 

“I’m apparently haunted by a pervert ghost.” 

“You... What?” She asks with round eyes before bursting out laughing. Charles looks at her affectionately. What was the saying already? Oh yeah, one’s man loss is another one’s man gain. He waits for her to calm down, looking as she wipes the tears that have streamed from her eyes before throwing himself in his explanation. 

“I’ve spent some quality time with Michael to unwind at the end of the day, except that, a little over two weeks now, barely switched on, he turns off and there’s nothing to do about it. I thought that he had arrived to his last days so I bought a new one and there it goes again. I’m at my fourth and it keeps happening… One, why not, two becomes a little bit weird but now, it’s just plainly strange.” 

Moira, always the pragmatic one, frowns before his problem. She would look perfectly serious if she wasn’t tapping her glass full of alcohol against her lips and dressed with one of her used and too big shirt she loved so much on which was written: I love myself, therefore I am. 

“Are there any of your other appliances that suffered the same fate?” 

Charles shakes his head no. 

“That’s the first think I thought about too, but no, it’s only my vibrators. I don’t understand why this keeps happening, it’s just insane and does nothing to help me relax.” 

Moira reminds thoughtful for a moment. 

“It would be a perfect problem to expose to Hank.” She throws at him. Charles is dumbfounded for an instant before they both burst out laughing. 

“Poor Hank, I’m not even sure he would go through the whole explanation before becoming a new case of spontaneous combustion to study.” He says laughing, imagining poor, shy Hank, red as a tomato but not daring to stop Charles. 

“Well, you've either incurred the wrath of the website where you buy your sextoys and they decided to send you all their defective products, or you’re effectively haunted by a frustrated ghost who refuses that you get yourself off if they can’t. Or maybe they’re just homophobic and can’t stand the sight of a man titillating his prostate…” She tells him with a straight face. Charles can only laugh at the ridicule of the situation. 

“Just my luck. Everything is going well for once in my life and I have to get on the wrong side of a tight-assed ghost… I’ll just have to find a new toy that no ghost will be able to temper with.” 

Moira straightens up suddenly slapping her hand on his thigh. 

“Very good idea! I’m going to take my laptop while you fill up our glasses.” 

___

Charles is well and truly drunk. 

The few drinks he imbibed after Moira and he had done their shopping on his favorite sextoys’ website might not have been a good idea, Charles thinks after the third time his key slides on his front door instead of in the lock. 

He’s about to try a fourth time when the sound of steps gets closer and a masculine voice calls out to him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” 

Charles startles at the sharp and authoritative tone of the voice, he turns around to face his conversation partner and reminds transfixed at the sight of the man. 

He’s really gorgeous, and Charles, in his advanced inebriated state, lets his eyes roam over the stranger with as much discretion as an elephant hiding behind a palm tree. He admires the face with pale and piercing eyes, a perfectly shaped, squared jaw with a hint of a beard, lower, along large shoulders outlined under a perfectly tailored suit, giving a glimpse at an incredibly thin waist and long muscular legs. His eyes travel up over his crotch and oh… 

Charles licks his lips. 

Either the man had hidden something in his boxer shorts or he was bloody well hung. 

Charles can only stare open mouthed at the bulge in the man’s trousers, well, more like fashion model, like for GQ or Out. This man could walk outside in his birthing suit and make people drop like flies. 

GQ clears his throat and a wave of annoyance falls on Charles. His eyes return to those facing him. The man’s eyebrows have climbed up his forehead like he was wondering what Charles was doing, which was completely stupid Charles was clearly ogling him, it was evident. 

The man sighs and asks him: “well?” 

Oh yeah, he had asked him something. 

Charles lifts his hand and shakes it to jiggle his bunch of keys. 

“Trying to enter.” He adds intelligently and GQ frowns. Charles shivers caught under the wrath of this icy stare, the only thing he wants to do is fall down on his knees in front of the stranger and do everything he could to ask for forgiveness. He could start by apologizing to the monster hiding under his zipper. 

“You’re not Raven.” GQ says and bloody hell, this voice… He can only imagine the various sounds it could make under the hold of ecstasy. 

Charles tries to put some order in his thoughts, foggy with alcohol when he feels the mind of the man staining with suspicion. 

“No, I’m not Raven, I’m lacking a few curves here and there in case you haven’t…. Who are you anyway?” Charles answers defensively, crossing his arms over his chest and getting up to his full height. GQ might be dashing but there’s no reason for Charles to answer his questioning. 

GQ snorts and points his finger in the direction of the door facing his, one of his eyebrows raised. 

“I live here.” He tells him. 

“Oh… oooooh!” Charles exclaims when the pieces of the puzzle finally click together. He was the famous neighbor Raven had told him about the day he had moved in then. 

She had only told him that she had met the neighbor living across the hallway from him, that he would like him and probably want to climb him like a tree too. His sister knows him way too well. 

GQ’s eyebrows climb up his forehead and Charles licks his lips again, the movement catching the eye of his neighbor. 

“Raven’s not here today. Charles adds after a moment, because it seems like GQ was waiting for an answer. 

GQ sighs and gets closer. He gestures to Charles’ keys. 

“Do you need help with these?” He asks him looking resigned. 

“Please” Charles whispers relieved and hands his keys over to his neighbor. 

He catches them and a few seconds later, the door is finally open. GQ holds his keys out and Charles take them, trying not to linger too long over the soft and warm skin under his fingers. 

“Thank you very much.” He tells him smiling. GQ shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Will you be alright?” He asks him and Charles can only nod, taken in the contemplation of the eye color of his beautiful neighbor/hero. 

He walks in his apartment backwards and waves goodbye, to which GQ answers with a simple nod. 

Once the door has closed behind him, Charles undoes his coat that falls on the floor before hurrying up in his bedroom, tripping twice on his way there. 

He undresses as fast as he can, trying not to fall flat on his face or to get stuck in his shirt. 

Once naked, he lets himself fall back on his bed and just lays there for a moment, his eyes fixed on his ceiling without really seeing it, thinking back to GQ. His cold and penetrating eyes, freezing Charles in place, like he was the telepath trying to discover Charles’ every secret; thin but sensual lips, his hands, long and masculine. 

Long fingers that would get lost in Charles’ hair, grip sure and exigent, pulling him toward him, covering his mouth with his and invading it with his tongue. 

Charles lets his fingers run over his chest, the sensations joining the delicious images from his fantasy, playing with a nipple, twisting and torturing it agreeably. 

Charles turns on his belly, grabbing the lube blindly in his bedside table. His hand caresses down his sides, his lower back, to come plunging in the valley between his butt cheeks, pressing his index and middle finger over the ring of muscle gently, making small circular motions, picturing other fingers, the heat of a body behind his, a warm breath against his nape, whispering obscenities with his sensual voice. 

He takes the lube to coat his fingers and continues where he left off. The cold of the lube makes him hiss between his teeth but the sensation against his entrance makes him shiver in anticipation. 

He presses his two fingers in slowly, enjoying the stretch of the muscle, letting himself be invaded a bit more with each second passing, starting with small back and forth movements. Wondering where GQ’s fingers would reach, which sensations they’d make him feel, how much they would make him moan. 

He pulls his fingers a little out and starts massaging his prostate, a groan of pleasure escaping from his lips and his back arches, an electric shock running through his spine to pool low in his belly. 

Charles loses himself between sensations and fantasy, but very soon, his fingers only aren’t enough. He plunges his hand back in his bedside table to get Michael out, he doesn’t waste time switching it on, coats it in lube before pressing the tip inside him slowly. 

He wonders if the size is the same as GQ’s, imagines that it’s him pressed along his back, burying deep inside of him, again and again. 

Charles wants more. He gets up on his knees, picturing a strong arm holding him firmly against a firm chest behind him. 

He blocks Michael underneath him on the mattress and lets himself sink onto it suddenly. His back arches, an intense pleasure running through his whole body. He picks up the pace, the muscles of his thighs tensing, starting to shake under the effort. His body glistens with sweat, his head thrown back, lips half-opened, letting moans after moans, more and more loud escape. 

His hands roam over his chest, his lower belly and come to seize his engorged member. He strokes it in long firm movements, following the rhythm of his hips, imagining thin and long fingers encircling his shaft, tearing hoarse screams of desire from his throat. 

His body tense, his vision whites out and he topples over in a pit of ecstasy, his member spilling over his sheets and hand. 

He collapses on his pillow, his hair stuck on his forehead, out of breath. He pulls Michael out gently and puts it on the side. He grabs his sheet blindly and wraps himself in it, the alcohol and orgasm pulling him quickly to the depths of sleep. 

___ 

Erik is puzzled. 

Mr. Vibrator was out tonight, hopefully not on, but he could sense the engine moving a little earlier, and considering the movements and the fact that the metal had warmed up little by little, it wasn’t for cleaning purposes... 

Except that, if he believed the claims of the man he had met in the hall earlier, Raven wasn’t there. He was the one to use it then. 

He didn’t know what to think of the man that he had first thought was someone with bad intentions, thinking about an ex coming for revenge or something like that. 

The first thing coming to his mind when the man had turned around was that he was damn attractive with his large ocean blue eyes, his dark wavy hair falling adorably on his forehead, his pale freckled skin and his red lips inviting to debauchery. For God knows what reasons, Erik had thought about Snow White when seeing him, maybe it was his innocent and completely lost expression that had caused this image or simply the pale complexion allied to black hair and red lips. 

Be as it may, Erik couldn’t stop wondering about who he was. Was he a friend of Raven, a member of her family? 

No, more like a boyfriend. Erik couldn’t picture Raven, or anyone for that matter, share her sex-toys with someone other than her partner. He’ll only have to ask the identity of the man next time he sees her, or, if he's lucky, sees him. 

Whomever may he be, Erik was now stuck with the image of muscles contracting under the expense of pale skin sprinkled with freckles, ecstasy painted over an angelic face, lips rendered even more red after being bitten from desire, hips moving in an erotic and heady dance driving his lucky vibrating partner deep within his body. 

Erik, under the shower then, had let himself get caught by the pulsations running against his senses, had let his imagination take over and had given into the pleasure his body was screaming for, letting the intoxicating dance of his one-night neighbor guide him. 

Now under his sheets, he tries to chase away the images of Snow White from his mind to try and find some sleep. 

He would discover his identity sooner or later. 

___

Still panting after his run two days later, Erik takes the stairs two by two to reach the fourth floor of his building. He takes out his keys from his pocket and walks to his door when the one opposite his opens on Snow White. 

He’s wearing a white shirt under a grey cardigan and dark blue jeans, he holds a trash bag in his hand. He stops in his tracks when he notices Erik a few feet away from him and his face reddens. 

“Hello.” He tells him with a small embarrassed smile. 

“Hello.” Erik answers with a nod. 

"That’s fortunate that we meet actually, I wanted to see you." 

"Really?" Erik asks a little surprised, wondering what could he want from him but being secretly all too happy to get the opportunity to observe the mysterious man in broad daylight. And oh, he is not disappointed. These eyes… and this mouth! 

"I wanted to apologize about the other night and also thank you. I was a tad too drunk and wasn’t myself. It was very nice of you to help me with the door, I’m not this clumsy usually." Snow White says and he really has to stop calling him that. 

"It was no problem, it didn’t bother me." Erik tells him smiling and holding out his hand. "Erik." 

The man looks astonished for an instant and starts struggling with his keys before stuffing them in his pockets and shake his hand in return, a radiant smile playing on his lips. 

"Charles. I suppose it was about time that we met. Raven told me she had bumped into you on that first day." he answers without letting go of Erik’s hand. He seems to realize he hasn’t broken contact because his eyes fall briefly on their hands and he let’s go abruptly. 

"Yes, we crossed paths briefly, I almost dropped a frying pan on her foot. I hope she’s alright, I haven’t seen her since." Erik tells him with a wry smile remembering the scene. Charles’ smile grows larger to take on a mischievous note. 

"I assure you, you wouldn’t be the first nor the last person to try to knock her out and yes, she’s perfectly fine, at least if I’m to believe what she tells me. She hasn’t come back since that first day." Charles answers and Erik frowns. 

Hasn’t come back? It was weird, there had been someone every night… 

Confusion must be showing on his face because Charles frowns slightly and he continues to explain. 

"Her job takes a lot out of her time and the little she has left, she’d rather spend with her boyfriend than her brother." 

Brother?! Erik’s brain shortcuts on this information for a few seconds, thinking only of one thing, Mr. Vibrator and the idea that it could be shared between siblings. He holds back a grimace of disgust just in time when the rest of what Charles told him is absorbed by his brain and he says: 

"It’s nice of her to lend you her apartment when she’s not there." Erik tells him trying to chase all kind of thoughts about Mr. Vibrator from his mind. Charles stays silent for a moment, his frown a little deeper and his head tilted on the side a bit, giving the perfect impression of a confused puppy. 

"Her… apartment…?" He repeats slowly. 

"Yes." Erik says, a little lost himself. 

"She doesn’t… I mean, this is my apartment, not hers. She lives across the city…" Charles explains and oh… 

Erik shakes his head, he had completely misunderstood the situation the first day. Raven was there only to help her brother move in. 

Wait a minute…. 

It means that all this time, it was Charles using Mr. Vibrator and not Raven! 

Ohh… It put things back in a completely different perspective. 

A much more attractive perspective… 

Erik shakes his head again, noticing that Charles was looking at him more and more worryingly. 

"It’d seem like I’ve misinterpreted Raven’s words when I saw her, I was convinced that she was the one living here and that she had lent you her apartment for a few days. At least, now the truth is restored." he tells him with a small smile. 

And what a truth! 

Erik tries not to think about Charles and Mr. Vibrator spending so much time together. On all fours, riding it… 

He’d like to avoid scaring Charles away with a sudden erection. 

Charles answers smiling: 

"No harm done so no problem. I'm sorry but have to go. I’m glad to have finally met you and thank you again for giving me a hand the other night, it was very kind of you. " 

Oh, it’s way more than a hand Erik would have liked giving him… 

"It was no trouble, if you need anything, you know where to find me." Erik manages to answer letting nothing transpire of the tumult in his head. 

"Thank you, the same goes for you." 

"I’ll keep that in mind." 

He waves quickly to say goodbye to Charles who answers the same way while starting to head to the staircase. 

Erik’s eyes can’t resist but fall on the round and muscled buttocks put on display by the jeans Charles is wearing, walking away along the corridor before Erik gets ahold of himself and turns back to his door, opening it and slamming it behind him with his powers. 

He marches off to his bathroom where he doesn’t waste time in divesting himself of all his clothes before stepping in the shower. 

He, his thoughts and his hand had a meeting of the utmost importance. 

___

Charles gets back home very excited. 

First, he had the pleasure of meeting his neighbor earlier this morning, and sober this time. He had wondered several times since their first encounter if the alcohol hadn’t played tricks on him and had embellished the memory of his one-night savior, but no, quite the opposite. His neighbor, Erik, was way sexier than in his memories, and that smooth voice of his tinted with a little accent was far to leave Charles indifferent. 

The second thing being that he had finally received his order placed from Moira’s and after his encounter with Erik, he was in a hurry to discover his new toys. 

He heads for his living room, the package in his hands. He grabs a pair of scissors form his desk before throwing himself on his couch. 

He cuts an opening then tears off both parts of the box and looks at the contents. 

One of the reasons he only bought from this website, besides their large choice of products, was the care with which the packages were prepared. Everything was neatly wrapped in red tissue paper and with the payment advice, a little note left under a feather of the same color than the paper. It was useless but he appreciated the attention nonetheless. 

Charles takes out the four items he had bought. A new vibrator, he had not resisted, it was a brand-new model that looked promising from what the publicity on the website said; a pair of nipple clamps linked by a thin silvery chain, which, according to Moira, would make him see stars, she had one pair herself; and finally, the showstopper, a prostate massager shaped in a kind of convoluted J, fully metallic and of a mouth-watering size... 

Yes, Charles had a preference for big ones, he just had good appetite, that’s all. 

And speaking about big ones, if he had to judge by the brief glances he had thrown at GQ’s groin, no Erik, damnit! The bulge in his pants promised lovely proportions... 

Charles swipes his tongue over his lips and feels his member twitch in his pants. He presses his hand over his erection and closes his eyes at the sweet sensation, wanting one thing only, try all his new toys right now, not able to decently give in to the first option: knock on his neighbor’s door, stark naked, fall on his knees and beg him to take him right there, right then. 

He pulls off his hand and clenches his fists on his thighs, inhaling deeply and opening his eyes. 

Not right now... 

He has to be patient. As the saying goes, the longer, the better. Charles likes to leave himself languishing, it was a sweet torture but, such a delectable one. The satisfaction would only be better in the end. 

So, not before doing everything he has planned today. He has classes to prepare, a pile of papers to grade and some cleaning up to do. And well, he doesn’t want to ruin everything by rushing this. He wants to take his time, explore in detail each spark of pleasure he can draw from his new toys and his body, not explode in less than two minutes. 

Charles brings his toys in his bedroom and leaves the clamps on his mattress. He then heads to his bathroom to clean both sex toys while thinking about new names. 

Some name their children, their dogs or their goldfishes, Charles give names to his sextoys. 

Yes, it’s ridiculous, Moira told him often enough, but it amuses him a lot and it doesn’t hurt anybody and, as opposed to his ex-partners, they were faithful and wouldn’t disappoint him. 

The new vibrator will be Logan. 

He had seen a gorgeous man, pretty gruff and muscled this morning, the perfect embodiment of the bad boy, that a young woman had called by this name. Charles hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring hungrily at him. It was a logical choice. 

The massager will be… Erik. After all, if you’re going to fantasize on your neighbor, you might as well not do things by half! 

It’s not like he would know anything about it anyway. As long as Charles’ barriers held, everything would be fine. He wasn’t a teenager anymore afterall. 

___

After numerous hours, Charles has finally finished everything he had planned to do, he even took time to cook. 

It had not been easy, his mind going back to his conversation with Erik this morning, his eyes an even lighter color than in his memories, his low and sensuous voice, his beautiful smile. 

Never before Charles had wanted to drop all his barriers this much and plunge into someone else’s mind, especially someone he didn’t know. But he had very good control and had resisted the temptation. 

He had had to fight against his body all day long… No less than eight erections in less than six hours. His imagination and his memory could be his worst enemies sometimes. 

It had been hard, what an understatement, and painful. Only the delectable promise of finally enjoying his new toys had allowed him to not burrow his hand in his pants to get some relief on the spot. 

Charles gets out of the shower, his member already hard at the idea of finally being able to have some fun. He grazes it with the tips of his fingers, a small tantalizing caress that has him clench his teeth just to make himself salivate. 

He dries himself quickly and untangles his hair, combing them back without exhausting himself by styling them, his hair had their own will whatever he might try. 

He grabs Logan and Erik that he had left drying on the rim of the bathroom sink and steps into his bedroom. 

He puts the sextoys down on his bed next to the clamps and the bowl of lube he had prepared in advance to not have to trouble himself with the bottle. 

He lies down on his back in the middle of his bed, the coolness of the sheets making him shiver, his skin covering with goosebumps. He stretches, arms over his head, his back cracking agreeably, making him sigh in relief. 

He lets his arms fall back along his body, then brings his hand to his chest and begins to brush his skin with the tips of his fingers, as softly as a feather touch. First, along his clavicle, then along his chest to move back up and come grazing the skin of his neck, just behind his ear. His other hand joins the first to come running along his thigh, then ride up to his groin and his lower belly. He makes sure to avoid any sensible spot, not yet. 

His skin awakens, goosebumps spreading in the groove of his touch. 

He closes his eyes, letting his mind get lost in sensations. 

The caress changes, a little harder, a hint of nail coming to dig in the skin for a few seconds, his breathing accelerating slightly. 

He brushes his index on one of his already hardened nipples, circling it then pinching it gently to roll it between his fingers. 

The first sigh escapes from half opened lips. His other hand comes to caress his pectoral muscle, massaging it for a few seconds before rubbing his second nipple lightly. 

Small sparks of pleasure run through his whole body to pool at the base of his spine. 

He grabs the thin metal chain by one of the tips and clasps it on the nipple he just let go off. 

A violent shudder goes through his back, and he moans at the cold sensation of the metal against his heated skin and the tight hold of the clamp. 

He does the same to the other nipple then grasps the chain and pulls on it gently. He groans softly, his entire body tensing at the sensation running through him and his hips lifting up to search for an absent friction. 

The chains remain between his fingers, pulling on it from time to time while his other hand runs down his chest, going through dark curls, grazing his member softly, not to find relief, but to make himself crave for more, his legs parting on their own to welcome more sensations. 

He touches his testicles, caressing them for a moment before massaging his perineum and burying his middle finger in the valley between his buttcheeks. He makes small circling motions, applying little pressure from time to time, searching nothing more than being drowned in sensations, letting his body get consumed by desire. 

He comes dipping his fingers in the lube before plunging them back between his cheeks, he spreads the liquid then gently presses his fingers through the ring of muscles. His eyes close and his mind starts to travel. 

He pictures himself through other eyes observing him from the other side of the room, imagining the scene he’s painting, there, lying on his bed, eyes shut, cheeks pink, lips bitten and reddened half opening only for sounds of pleasure to escape, skin covering with goosebumps, silver chain falling in a decadent cascade along his chest, thighs spread and hands and wet noises leaving the back and forth motions of his fingers to the imagination. 

A name falls from his lips mingling with moans and long legs come slide in between his under his closed eyelids while he grabs his metallic toy. 

He can’t stop himself from bringing it to his lips and sucking on the tip, imagining soft and warm skin on his tongue instead of the cold and lifeless metal, running the tip of his tongue over the length of it. 

He coats Erik in lube and brushes the cold tip along his chest, then over his lower abdomen, along his member softly making it twitch with attention before slipping it between his cheeks and pressing it gently against his entrance. 

He has to bite down on his lips not to just burry the toy deep inside him. He holds back, unmoving for an instant, body tense and hands shaking. His other hand comes to grab the small chain lying on his chest and pulls gently, his whole body shudders violently and a cry manages to escape tortured lips. 

He barely presses the tip of his toy against his entrance to feel the ring of muscle opening softly, as if searching to suck Erik in him. He relieves the pressure right away and starts again, each time a little deeper until finally, finally! He breaches his entrance. 

He freezes once again, appreciating the cold sensation of the metal against his boiling insides, Erik's girth, filling him so perfectly. 

He inhales deeply and buries the length of Erik slowly in him, shivering all along. The tip slides and presses gently over his prostate and he throws his head back, an electric shock running down his spine. 

He loses himself between dream and reality, sensations and thoughts. Splendid frosted blue eyes burning with desire. Long and warm hands caressing, gripping his thighs, warming up the cold and delicate metal of the chain. Member disappearing in Charles again and again, burning him from inside. 

Erik is perfect, sliding in him very gently, filling him just like he likes it, coming to rub over this spot making him see stars, vibrating deliciously against it, tearing cry after cry from his throat. 

He lifts up his legs against his chest, picturing long masculine hands holding him in place, a lean and muscled chest undulating to the rhythm of voluptuous hip thrusts, fingers coming to grasp the chain and pulling in fits and starts in step with his hips. 

Erik seems to warm up in him, his whole body aflame, his skin shiny with sweat. A litany of moans, groans and cries come to drown a name whispered feverishly. 

Erik seems to vibrate more and more in him, pulsations appearing to follow his erratic heartbeat, motions faster and faster. 

All his muscles are tensed, his back drawing a sensuous arch, his neck stiff and head thrown back, lips red and half opened, breath short. His whole body devoured by an inferno of ecstasy. 

His hand comes to take hold of his member tearing another cry from his throat, his other hand clenches in the sheets just above his head, he strokes himself to Erik's rhythm, sparks of pleasure shooting everywhere inside him, he’s only sensations. 

The tension escalates, each stroke becomes halting, strong and he topples over. His body spasms, a long cry of passion tears itself from his throat and his vision whites out. His entire being falls to gulfs of pleasure, shaking with the intensity with which he succumbs. 

He comes back to his senses little by little, his heartbeat and breath slowing down to get back to normal. 

Suddenly, his heart lurches in his throat and his eyes fly open. 

Vibrations?! 

He unclenches his hand not soiled with semen to grab the sextoy between his legs and take a look at it. 

No, it was Erik and not Logan he had used. He might have read the description wrong on the website. 

Wait… 

His hand was clenched in the sheet not a minute ago. It was impossible. 

His right hand bore the proof of its activity on his erection but how was it possible that the other had ended up in the sheets while it was the one holding Erik?! 

He had probably imagined the vibrations, why not, but this went beyond belief. 

No, he must have been dreaming… 

Yes, it was probably his imagination playing tricks on him, lost in his body’s sensations as he was. 

But in a corner of his mind, a small voice looking a lot like Moira’s was whispering that maybe his pervert ghost started to like him a little too much. 

___

Erik is relaxing in front of his TV, slouched on his couch, a fresh beer in his hand, watching a umpteenth rerun of Back to the future when he feels the ban of his existence get in motion. 

He grunts, letting his head fall back on the back of his couch to look at the ceiling. 

Erik really appreciates his neighbor, maybe a little too much – then again, who could resist those eyes? But he has to wonder if Charles hasn’t decided to achieve him in the worst way possible. 

He couldn’t stand the grating sensation of Mr. Vibrator when he thought Raven was the one using it, but now that he knows that it was in fact Charles… it changed everything. The pulsations had become caresses against his senses, like a sweet intoxicating melody to his ears. 

But this, he couldn’t stand any longer. 

Charles seems to have found the perfect murder weapon too: a fully metallic dildo. 

Azazel or Emma will end up discovering his lifeless body and on his grave, it’ll say: 

 

Here lies Erik Lehnsherr 

Erik-0, Irondildo-1 

 

Every time Irondildo was out, it was a bit like it was calling out to him to join the party. 

Erik could feel each movement, each stroke, each bump and hollow, the heat diffusing slowly along the metal particles as if it was an extension of himself. 

And speaking of extensions of himself, there was one that was extended alright, twitching and asking for attention with each new sensation. 

He had tried to concentrate on other metallic objects, afterall, there were plenty of it in a building, even more in his apartment but it was no use, he inexorably found himself lured by that new toy’s back and forth and his thoughts went back to Charles. 

Charles naked, muscles tensed under skin gleaming with sweat, a rapturous expression painted on his angelic face in alluring guise. 

He found himself lost between dream and reality, the sextoy’s movements becoming hypnotic, captivating him and bewitching him entirely, clouding everything around him and he could not stop himself from taking hold of Irondildo. 

In a corner of his mind, he knew that he had to resist, that he wasn’t 12 anymore and that his powers didn’t control him. He was going too far but as soon as a little resistance started to take shape in his brain, it seemed to melt like an ice cube under the sun. 

He came back to his senses later, thoughts still a bit clouded, coming out of his stupor, breath short, a feeling of deep satisfaction running in his veins, his hand in his pants and covered with semen, completely stunned. 

He hasn’t got scruples for much to begin with but still, jump in the wagon of someone else’s pleasure without him knowing about it and participating was going too far. As little scrupulous as he was, he couldn’t help but feeling guilty and he prayed all the gods in which he didn’t believe in that Charles hadn't noticed a thing. 

Enough was enough, he was going to go mad at this rate. 

Erik heads to his bedroom, ignoring the erection tenting his pants and counting backwards from 100 in his head to try chasing Irondildo’s presence away from his senses. 

He undresses quickly and grabs his joggings from his closet then freezes suddenly, listening carefully. 

That’s it, he’s getting crazy. Now he hears voices whispering his name… 

He shakes his head, trying to chase the sensation away and pulls his pants on. 

This is all so ridiculous. 

He’s going to run a little, it'll prevent him from feeling Charles and Irondildo doing the tango and he’ll let off some steam. 

“Erik… Please…” 

Erik straightens up slowly, his pants forgotten mid-thigh, eyes clouded and distant. He turns around to face his bed, observes it for a long moment, as if captivated by its sight. His hand goes down slowly along his chest, to come tracing the outlines of his member through his underwear. 

Then he steps forward quietly, like a predator ready to jump on its prey, eyes riveted on his sheets, completely enthralled, completely enchanted. 

His knee lands on the mattress and his hand reaches out to land on a stretch of pale and burning skin, waiting and clamoring only for him, forgetting everything around him. 

___

“Are you sure?” 

“No and to be honest, I still think it’s entirely ridiculous and unbelievable, but I still haven’t found any rational explanation for a simple dildo to start vibrating or moving without me touching it, and I’m not even talking of that one time Logan joined the party when I hadn’t even taken him out if my drawer.” 

Charles watches his friend frown while stirring her coffee, analyzing the situation. If someone could sort some sordid matter out, it was Moira. 

They’re in his office, sitting in the armchairs situated in a corner of the room after having lunch together. A little routine they loved and allowed them to discuss the last gossips of the university in complete tranquility. 

Moira had asked him if the two new additions to his list of mechanical lovers were on the top of their games and Charles had then told her about his small problem. 

“Let’s say that I can’t see a less bizarre explanation than this one. Either your orgasms are slowly but surely frying your brain, or your ghost is having a blast.” She pats his thigh amicably. “Well, at least, he’s learned to appreciate you! He makes you see stars instead of being all pins and needles!” 

Charles can’t help but smile suggestively at his friend. 

“At this level, I think we can easily talk about entire galaxies.” he answers her before answering more seriously. “It’s already hard enough for me to not extend my senses and cling onto the closest mind, but, in these conditions, I just want to bang my head repeatedly against a wall. And you know me, the more stressed and tired I am, the harder it is for me to keep my barriers up. I suppose my neighbors would hardly appreciate it if I projected in the middle of an orgasm.” 

She throws him a conspiratorial smile. 

“Oh, you could be single handedly responsible for a new baby boom...” 

Charles snorts, shaking his head picturing the newspapers’ headlines: “New York in heat!” or even “New-Yorkers are coming” 

“Have mercy, I truly don’t need this kind of publicity...” He says still smiling. 

Moira observes him for a moment, comprehending, then her expression turns mischievous. 

“You know... The dark handsome Erik-with-drooling-proportions... He may be delighted that you project. If he knew he had the main role in your fantasies and that you even named one of your sextoys in honor of his penis, he could be flattered, interested even.” 

Charles can’t help but cringe. 

“Yeah, right... I’m sure he’d be delighted to know that his neighbor is not only a pervert but a degenerate of a telepath too.” 

Moira shakes her head and looks at him straight in the eye. 

“Charles, it’s not because you’ve been unlucky so...” 

Charles bends forward to kiss her cheek knowing it would silence her. He looks at her smiling but at the expression on his friend’s face, he probably hadn’t managed to hide the melancholy he was feeling. 

Moira had the knack to read in him like an open book, no need for powers for her. 

“Thank you my dear, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

She smiles sympathetically at him before nodding once and throwing him very seriously: “your life would be very sad indeed.” 

Her expression remains solemn but Charles can feel the humor she tries to contain. 

He shakes his head, an affectionate smile on his lips turning into a mocking one. 

“Yes, indeed. Who else could have ordered some haunted sextoys for me?” 

Their eyes are locked, their mouths tensed trying to keep their seriousness, until the moment when Charles’ lip starts trembling and they both burst out laughing at the same time. 

___ 

Charles comes home after a long work day. His students were particularly overexcited today and he’s eager to take off his clothes, to take a long hot shower and to huddle in his couch with a hot cup of tea and a good book. 

He steps into his apartment, hangs on his coat and takes off his shoes in the hallway then goes to the living room to put his bag pack down. 

He walks to his bedroom while beginning to unbutton his shirt. He enters in his bathroom and throws his shirt in the hamper. He undoes his belt and starts to unzip his pants when someone rings the bells. 

He frowns and extends his powers. 

It’s Erik. 

His hands are frozen on his pants, not knowing what to think. He’s very tempted to let his power go completely to know why he’s at his door, but first, it would be against his rules and secondly, there are too much chances for him to not want to let go once plunged into this so intriguing mind. He erects his barriers once more and heads to the front door, deciding that his shower could wait a few minutes more. 

It’s not to enjoy the sight of Erik at all, not in the least. 

His hand is reaching for the handle when he realizes the state of his clothing and he buttons his pants hastily. He hesitates to go back to the bathroom to pass on a t-shirt but he doesn't want to risk Erik leaving, he shrugs and opens. Afterall, Erik should have picked his moment better! 

He opens his door on an absolutely mouth-watering Erik. He’s wearing a V-neck t-shirt hugging is chest, showing off just enough pectoral muscles, and perfectly cut jeans on which Charles tries not to focus all his attention. 

Well, mostly a specific area... 

He looks up and catches Erik with his mouth hanging half opened. It only lasts a second, his expression going back to his composed and pleasant mask as soon as he notices Charles’ eyes on him. 

“Oh, hello.” Charles tells him, hoping not to be blushing as furiously as he feels he is. 

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. I wanted to know if you had a little four to spare?” At this moment, Charles sees that Erik is holding a small metallic bowl in his hand. He gawks at him for a few seconds before answering him. 

“Yes, of course! Come in, please.” He tells him, waving him inside. He closes the door behind him and walks ahead to the kitchen. 

“Follow me. Do you need a particular type of flour? I’ve got whole-wheat, corn or the classic type.” He heads to the cupboard in the corner where he stores his basics and condiments. 

“Classic will do. I’m sorry to come beg like this, but I’m preparing some biscuits for my mother and like an idiot, I forgot to buy some flour. I was certain I had some left and since the store at the end of the street is closed today, I thought that maybe you could help me out.” Erik tells him a little embarrassed. Charles takes his flour jar and turns back smiling. 

“Don’t worry, it’s the least I can do for you after the other night.” 

Erik smiles in return, and Charles suddenly feels his knees want to start tap dancing. 

Why did his neighbor have to be the personification of all his fantasies? Was the universe against him? Had he killed some kittens in another life and was paying the price this time around? 

He holds out his hand to take the bowl from Erik’s hand, trying not to whine in frustration when their fingers brush. 

He puts the bowl down on the table and fills it with flour with a tablespoon. Erik watches him silently. The air around them is filled with tension, almost electric. Well, that’s how Charles feels anyway. 

Charles goes to put down the jar of flour on the table when it slips from his hand and falls on the bowl that flies off in turn. 

“Bloody hell!” Charles swears rushing to catch the bowl that... stops, as if frozen in the air, the flour falling in a cloud on the table. 

Both men remain rooted on the spot, each with their hand stretched out to the bowl. 

Charles stares wide eyed at the bowl, his brain having trouble understanding what had just happened. 

Suddenly, his eyes turn to Erik who looks like a deer caught in headlights. And Charles realizes something. His hand isn’t stretched out as if to catch something falling, but more like he was trying to draw it to him. 

“You’re a mutant.” Charles whispers dumbstruck. Nothing happens for a moment then Erik nods slowly in answer, all his body seemingly tensing, his position frozen and the bowl still floating between them. 

A delighted smile stretches Charles’ lips, a little dazed and incredulous after this discovery. Erik is a mutant... 

“This is brilliant!” He says, his smile growing even larger. Erik appears to relax all at once sighing and smiling timidly in return. 

“I’m a metallo-kinetic, I can manipulate magnetic fields and by extension, metal.” He clarifies this by making the bowl fly and putting it back neatly down on the table before Charles’ amazed eyes who just beams at him. 

“You have a very groovy mutation, Erik.” Charles tells him and observes him for a moment, hesitating to reveal his powers in turn. It would be the logical thing to do, but he can’t help but feel unsure... He’s not ashamed of his powers, not in the least. It’s even the thing he loves the most about himself and which he is the proudest of, but many past experiences hold him back. He’s way too aware of the fear and discomfort his mutation provokes, even amongst mutants. 

Do it or you’ll regret it, the tiny Moira in his head suggests him. He would never tell Moira that his consciousness has decided to take on her voice, she would be way too proud and wouldn’t stop bragging after that. 

She was right though, it’s Erik and he’s a mutant too. He had to take the plunge. 

Charles inhales deeply and lowers his barriers just a tad to be able to communicate. Erik’s mind is there, just as clear and bright as the first night they met. Charles resists to the temptation of losing himself in him. Only the wariness and confusion he feels coming from Erik hold him back. 

He makes his thought and voice as gentle as possible and sends _“I’m a mutant too, a telepath.”_

Erik startles slightly and Charles is hit by a feeling of shock followed by a blank moment and then by a wave of memories and sensations coming from the man. 

Pulsations seeming to vibrate against his senses, exasperation, then desire; a heady fog, a pale body tensed in ecstasy, groans of pleasure, a name whispered; a confused and uncomfortable awakening, body sated and mind clouded... 

Charles’ shock is like a cold shower. He strengthens his mental barriers at once. His body like frozen at the realization of what had happened. All those times, he had involuntarily spread his telepathy to Erik and kind of drugged him, forcing him to play a role in his moments of supposed solitary pleasure. 

Charles doesn’t know how to react. He’s horrified, angry and would like to disappear. He looks up at Erik and opens his mouth to apologize but the words never come. 

Erik’s gaze can only be qualified as dangerous. 

Charles feels his heart constrict painfully in his chest, realizing he had ruined everything unconsciously. 

He had already seen this kind of look in the eyes of many people and Charles prepares himself mentally for the assault that was about to happen. It was fully deserved afterall. 

Erik starts to walk toward him briskly, like a predator chasing its prey. Charles lets him come clenching his teeth, determined to face everything Erik would throw at him. 

He reaches him in a few steps, seizing him by his arms to pull him in and kiss him. 

___ 

He’s kissing Charles. 

As in Charles’ mouth is currently pressed against his. 

Charles who clouds his neighbors’ minds when he spends quality time with his sextoys. 

Charles, who’s the reason of his so frequent masturbation cessions, whether intentional or unintentional lately. 

Wow. 

He realizes with a pang of disappointment that Charles has remained frozen and doesn’t reciprocate his kiss. 

He stops and lets him go, starting to back off. He is about to apologize when Charles surges forward gripping his t-shirt. The sharp movement makes him lose his balance, he catches himself just in time on the man’s shoulders, who in turn catches himself on the table behind him, ending up sitting just on the edge, his mouth finding Erik’s again. 

Erik’s heart starts to pound furiously under Charles’ embrace, savoring each second of their lips sliding against each other, their tongues and breaths intertwining. 

After a too short moment, he pushes Erik back gently and breaks the kiss. 

“I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t take more advantage of you than I already did, not after what I’ve put you through.” Charles tells him looking away and rubbing his jaw. Erik frowns for a few seconds and shakes his head. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks him a little confused. It was him who had initiated the kiss afterall, not Charles. 

Charles who watches him sadly, the gaze filled with disgust, his big blue eyes even shinier than usual and tells him softly: “Erik, I’ve used my telepathy to use you like… like a vulgar sextoy. I’m no better than a rapist drugging their preys! Even if it wasn’t conscious, it doesn’t lighten the weight of my actions!” Charles bangs his fist against the table turning his face away but not quickly enough for Erik not to notice the angry tears running from his eyes. 

His heart clenches. Charles should never have to cry. Especially not for this. 

He brings his hand to his face, laying it on his cheek tenderly to face him once more and look into his eyes. 

“Charles, have you ever asked yourself why your sextoys suddenly stopped or started to vibrate harder? If you’re guilty then I am even more because I was fully aware of my actions. And well, there’s nothing you’ve done to me that I hadn’t already imagined or plainly appreciated. And I will add a last thing, one of my closest friends is a telepath and she trained me a lot. If I wasn’t fully consenting, I would have fought against your presence.” 

He rubs his thumb over his cheek to wipe the tears from the skin reddened by Charles’ anger. The last affirmation wasn’t entirely true, Charles was way too powerful for him, but he never wants to see this expression on such a beautiful face. Never. 

Charles watches him, incredulous. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Erik answers him with flawless composure. 

Charles seems to think about something for a moment then a timid and a tiny bit mischievous smile appears on his red lips. 

“I think I won at the ghost lottery.” 

Erik frowns, puzzled. Ghosts? 

Watching his reaction, Charles smiles even more and shakes his head. All traces of his distress a few seconds prior gone. And Erik smiles back, unable to resist such a sight. 

He bends down slightly, leaning on the table next to Charles’ hip and claims these lips that have haunted his dreams for so long. 

This time, Charles makes a little noise at the contact, pressing his lips a little harder against his, he suddenly surges then, one of his hands coming to grip his neck, the other his shirt to pull him closer against him, his legs parting to make room for his body. 

Charles deepens their kiss and Erik’s hand slide in his hair, getting lost in soft brown locks, pulling on them slightly to tilt his head a bit more and come pressing gentle kisses along his neck, unable to stop himself to nibble at it here and there. 

Charles reacts beautifully, melting against him, letting his head fall back in a fluid motion, his hands roaming along his back and digging in the skin. 

Erik sighs, letting go of Charles for a moment and straightening up to get rid of his t-shirt in one quick move, eyes riveted on him, on his lips, even redder than usual, on his pale chest sprinkled with cinnamon dust. Charles observes him back, his eyes devouring Erik’s unveiled chest and coming to rest on his groin. 

Erik is already hard, he wouldn’t be able to hide it even if he wanted and Charles... 

Charles swipes his tongue over his lips as if Erik was the only dessert left on Earth. He can only groan and throws himself at him again, kissing him passionately, moaning in his mouth when their chest touch. 

Charles grips his back, his fingers moving down along his spine to come grip handfuls of his butt and push both their erections together. Erik presses his forehead against Charles’, both letting moans of pleasure escape at the friction between their bodies, unable to refrain his hips from undulating. 

Charles lays kisses along his jaw, along his neck, coming to lick the hollow of is clavicle to go down along his pectoral muscle and circling his areola before sucking on his nipple, making it harden between his lips. 

Erik groans, gritting his teeth, his hand clenched in Charles’ hair, Charles’ tongue and lips sending delicious bursts of pleasure directly to his crotch. He can’t help imagining this tongue playing with as much skill on his member. 

Charles sniggers softly and looks at him under the veil of his lashes, a cheeky smile drawing on his cherry-red lips. 

“Everything can be arranged...” 

And before Erik has the time to wonder what, Charles pushes him back by his hips and falls gracefully on his knees before him. Erik is speechless, it’s just like Charles was reading his... 

His thoughts... He had forgotten. 

Charles’ smile turns teasing and he winks at him before bringing his hands to his belt to take it off of him quickly then unbutton his pants slowly, his fingers grazing just slightly over the outline of Erik’s hardness through the cloth. 

He moves closer to his open jeans while watching him, his hands on his hips, thumbs resting on the hollow of his groin, then lowers his eyes to his still captive erection and lays a kiss just on the tip. Erik’s member twitches and Charles mouths along it, wetting his boxers. 

The sensation is lovely but Erik wants more, he wants to feel these lips around him, his tongue making... 

A soft bite high on his thigh brings him back to reality and Charles is watching him again, smiling wryly. 

_“Patience.”_ He sends him mentally, and what a strange sensation it is to hear Charles’ voice directly in his head. 

He licks his member from root to tip and Erik moans in frustration, pulling on Charles’ hair slightly who moans in turn. 

Charles slides his thumbs in his boxers and slides them down along with his pants right under his testicles. His thumbs come to caress the warm skin of his inner thighs grazing his scrotum and Erik’s member twitches again, a clear drop beading just before Charles’ face, who swipes his tongue over his lips and comes to collect the translucent liquid before sliding his mouth slowly along his erection. 

He looks up at Erik and the picture he paints in this moment is even more erotic than everything Erik had imagined until then. 

Charles makes sure to press his tongue along the vein of the hardened member, applying constant pressure, burning and perfect around Erik, massaging his testicles at times, his hand coming to join his mouth, making him lose his mind. 

He’s reduced to a panting and moaning mess, hands clenched in Charles’ hair, gritting his teeth to not just let go and fuck his mouth. 

Charles’ movements become deeper, Erik can feel his erection touch the back of his mouth, his throat throbbing and... 

Erik stops him and pulls him back suddenly. Charles watches him with round eyes, clearly surprised and Erik can only try to get a hold of himself for a moment. 

“What...” Charles starts asking but Erik shakes his head. 

“As much as I’d love to come in your mouth, I'd really wish for this to last a little longer because I would very much like to fuck you.” 

The proud smile that had started to stretch Charles’ lips falls to turn into an expression of pure desire. He closes his eyes and Erik takes his hand to help him get back up and pull him into a kiss, never getting tired of the sensation of his soft and full lips under his. 

Erik undoes Charles’ belt with his powers, one of his hands on his neck to tilt his head to the side in order to cover it with kisses and hickeys, and the other pulls and pinches gently on his nipples. 

The belt and buttons of Charles’ pants come undone one by one, his zipper moving down as if by magic and Erik is struck by a wave of red and burning desire mingling with his for an instant. They both groan at the same time and Erik can’t hold on any longer. 

He seizes Charles by the hips and turns him, pressing his back against his chest. His hands slide gently up along his sides to follow the curve of his shoulders and go down along his arms, grabbing his hands and laying them flat on the table. 

Charles lowers his head exhaling slowly and Erik takes a step back to better admire the pale and muscled back dusted in freckles and wants one thing only, to trace them all with his tongue. He plasters himself along Charles’ body and kisses the nape of his neck tenderly, then his shoulders, laying kisses after kisses here and there. Then he begins to move down along his spine slowly, savoring each inch of the skin offered to his lips. He goes down lower still, to the hollow of his back, taking care of placing two kisses on each dimple just over his buttcheeks. He feels Charles shiver under his fingers. His hands grip his hips and move down along his thighs, dragging his pants and underwear with it, leaving only a stretch of naked skin to explore and conquer. 

Very quickly, Charles’ pants are forgotten on his ankles and Erik can only stare hungrily at Charles’ perfect body, kneeling at his feet, his eyes lingering on the round and perfect buttocks offered to him. 

He keeps on exploring with barely there lips, biting tenderly the firm flesh, tearing a small gasp from Charles’ throat. His hands come to join his lips, feeling, massaging the cheeks, his thumbs diving in the valley in between to provoke moan after moan becoming louder and louder. Erik grazes his fingers over Charles’ entrance, pressing his thumb for a few seconds before going back to light touches. 

Charles apparently can’t stop himself from projecting, Erik receiving wave after wave of sensations that don’t belong to him, it’s a delicious torture, making everything more intense and satisfying. Charles becomes his guide, Erik answering to each emotion, each desire, doing his best to make him lose his mind. 

He presses his fingers a little bit harder, and a wave of frustration more powerful than the others hits him. 

_“Erik, please…”_

Two little words familiar to Erik whispered in his mind provoke a burning shiver in his whole body, as if it had learned to react to the simple sound of these words. 

He spreads Charles’ cheeks and licks along the crack several times, each stroke making Charles pant a little more, then Erik comes circling the ring of muscles with the tip of his tongue, alternating between caress and gentle pressure. 

Charles’ hips start undulating, seeming to chase his touch each time it leaves his burning skin, his back arching a little. 

Erik is intoxicated, the taste of Charles on his tongue, the sensation of his skin under his fingers, the pressure of his emotions blending with his. He’s drowning in Charles and he wants more. Always more. 

He presses his mouth more firmly and sucks, gripping Charles’ butt even harder to bury his face between the two globes. 

He licks his entrance and presses with the tip of his tongue to penetrate it, Charles shivering under his fingers, producing delectable little moans, half appreciative, half imploring and Erik wonders what other kind of sounds he could get out of him. 

_“Everything… more…”_ Charles whispers to him mentally, seeming over vocalizing his thoughts and pushes very graphics images to him of what he would like Erik to do to him. Erik, who closes his eyes for a moment and grips the base of his member to focus and not come right then. 

“Verdammt… You’ve got lube?” he asks panting. 

Charles doesn’t move for a moment then shrugs and sends him the image if the bottle of olive oil sitting on the counter with the impression of an interrogation point and his desire to stay plastered to Erik. 

Erik smiles. “Wait, I have a better idea.” 

He stretches his arm in the direction of his apartment, concentrating to find the particular hooping of metal he had made specifically not to bother himself with rummaging through his drawer when he had an urge. He’d never have guessed that he would be so handy one day. 

The bottle found, he makes it cross his apartment, unlocks both doors to cross the hall, thanking heaven and earth that no one was walking along the hallway then, and reach his still outstretched hand. 

He brings his attention back to Charles, being absolutely proud of his exploit, and is rendered speechless at the expression of his lover’s face. Charles is staring at him with his mouth hanging half opened, his eyes alight with humor, his mind radiating admiration and pure desire. 

_“Your fingers, in me, now.”_ Charles orders him mentally and Erik has never obeyed so fast in his life, shuddering at the sensation of heat spreading through his whole body. 

He opens the bottle of lube then coats the fingers of his right hand before bringing it to the crack of Charles’ butt and tracing it. He stops on the entrance and presses his index gently in, feeling Charles relaxed and moaning, he pushes his finger in slowly. He pulls it out almost entirely before burying it a little deeper, appreciating the heat surrounding his finger, his mind incensed, his eyes traveling along Charles’ back, hypnotized by the muscles tensing jerkily. 

A second finger comes to join the first, sinking in deeply, taking care of spreading the lube and relax the muscle gently. He can’t stop himself from smiling at the wave of impatience coming from Charles followed by a litany of _“more, come one, give me more…”_

He bends down slightly then and comes to bite tenderly the firm flesh of Charles’ butt, imitating his earlier actions. But instead of the wave of amusement he was expecting, he sees Charles shudder and groan and Erik admire with fascination his skin cover in goosebumps. 

Oh, interesting… 

He stores this information for later and slides a third finger along the others, crooking them a bit and… there! 

Charles’ back arches and a loud moan comes out of his throat. Erik is momentarily stunned by a sensation of intense pleasure traveling along his back and realizes he has stopped moving his fingers when Charles seizes his wrist and uses it like he would use one of his sextoy. 

Erik can only watch transfixed, open-mouthed, letting himself be used, caught in the chaos of his own desire escalating suddenly and Charles’ which he feels as clearly as if it was his. He has to grip the base of his erection and squeeze hard. 

Fuck… 

He pulls out his fingers and frees himself from Charles’ grip. He takes out the condom he always keeps in his wallet left in the back pocket of his jeans. He gets back up and un rolls it on his hard member. He adds lube, savoring the delectable electric current going through him at the touch. 

Charles observes him out of the corner of his eye, seeming unaware of the _yes-yes-yes_ flooding Erik’s mind. 

The latter grips Charles’ hip with one hand and the base of his member with the other and lines it up before entering him slowly. 

The moan that Charles let’s out then is quite simply pornographic and goes straight to his groin. He clutches Charles hips a bit tighter to prevent himself from just diving into the delicious and burning vice of his body but Charles won’t have any of it. One of his hands leaves the table to grasp firmly one of Erik’s buttcheeks and pull him deep inside of him. Erik throws his head back, jaw clenched and hands tensing on his hips, overwhelmed by the fire enfolding him from all sides. 

The two of them seem frozen in time, both trying to regain their footing, the limits of their bodies erased, their minds interweaving, an endless loop of sensations running through them both. 

A moan escaping Charles’ mouth breaks Erik out of this all too familiar trance. He can only smile and hold Charles against him, kissing his neck and caressing his body. 

Slowly, his hips start to move in small back and forth motions deeper than they are powerful. His body reacts by itself, running after this long awaited and desired pleasure, drunk on Charles. 

Erik observes him, his hands braced on the table before him and his head lowered as if lost in the deepest communion, his pale skin reddened by the warmth of their embrace, the arch of his back, his muscles tensing and relaxing in turn, the curve of his butt in between which his shaft disappears. Charles is intoxicating, an enchanting creature from old legends. Erik can only succumb. 

He loses himself in him, his whole body aflame. His grip almost vicious on his hips, unable to stop their wild dance. Each movement making him feel the most delicious sensations to which echoes Charles’, guiding and goading him to keep going, not knowing which sensation belong to him anymore, where his body ends and where starts Charles’. 

The kitchen resonates with the melody of their bodies, the noise of their flesh slapping together, their panting breaths, their moans and groans, the flood of pleading escaping Charles’ lips, his smooth voice broken by desire. 

Erik can’t go on like this, he wants more, to never stop, to see only Charles, drown in him, never to come back. 

Charles, Charles, Charles… 

He pulls out suddenly, Charles gasping in surprise. He looks over his shoulder, his gaze interrogating but Erik doesn’t give him the time to ask questions, he makes him turn to face him. His eyes fall on Charles’ face and his breath catches in his throat. 

Locks of hair fall on his eyes in a adorable and terribly seductive way, his lips are redder than ever, swollen by desire and his eyes… an electric blue, bright and burning all at once, veiled by the most raging of flames. He is the personification of temptation and Erik is ready to sell his soul. 

Charles throws himself at him, their mouth meeting almost brutally, their kiss messier than all the others they shared so far. 

Erik grips his thighs and lifts him up suddenly, Charles’ legs instinctively tightening around his waist, a sigh of desire blending with Erik’s groan. 

Their mouths don’t separate while Erik bends over gently to lay Charles on the table before straightening up. 

Charles watches him, eyes clouded. He would look almost lost and at his mercy if not for the litany of _yes-like this-now-in-me_ poured in Erik’s mind. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice and doesn’t waste time to line up his member and enter Charles again. And oh! 

Sparks run through his spine and his vision blurs for a moment. Charles’ body clenches deliciously around him and a cry escapes him. The new position apparently perfect for him if Erik is to believe the flood of sensations emanating from him. 

They stare at each other and Erik grins devilishly. 

He grips his thighs and gives one short but powerful thrust, the same cry escapes from Charles’ throat and the same sparks come take refuge low in Erik’s belly who can’t stop himself from crying out in turn and start again. 

He surrenders to pleasure, responding to Charles’ sensations instinctively, as if someone had cast a spell on him and he had no choice but to obey. Nothing exists but their body and this frenzied dance, their minds irremediably bound. 

Charles’ back arches under the flames consuming him, one of his hands gripping the table behind him, red wet lips half opened letting only cries and sighs escape, all coherence gone. 

Their pleasure escalates, their body tense under the pressure accumulating low in their belly. 

Charles throws his head back, a long hoarse cry comes out of his throat and everything explodes. Erik’s vision whites out and his whole body seems to impose under the force of his orgasm, trembling and spilling deep inside of Charles, the both of them tumbling in the abyss of ecstasy, as if suspended in time. 

It’s a little time before the tremors going through his body die down and Erik comes back to his senses slowly. He’s half collapsed on Charles, his forehead resting on his chest, Charles’ hand on his nape, fingers lost in his hair. He can feel the strength of Charles’ heart beating under his skin and he takes a few moments to gather a little strength and straighten up. 

He lifts up his head and Charles looks at him and smiles. Erik can’t help but come to capture it with his lips, smiling back. He rests his forehead on Charles’, eyes closed, appreciating the sweetness of this moment. 

He straightens up and pulls out gently, taking care of holding the condom in place. He holds out a hand to Charles to help him getting up who beams at him. 

He takes off the condom and ties it up, receiving the information of where the trashcan is situated. He throws it away smiling, thinking that Charles’ gift is very useful and not only to find the trashcan. Charles laughs behind him then gives him a tissue and they both clean up perfunctorily in comfortable silence. 

Charles watches him with a timid and seductive smile. 

“Would care for a quick shower?” he asks him softly. And how could Erik refuse such an offer? 

He walks toward him, bringing his hand to his face and kisses him tenderly, whispering a yes on his lips. 

Charles catches his hand and leads him to the bathroom. Erik feasts his eyes on his naked body and grins. 

He will never speak ill of a vibrator in his life ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Non-Con: Erik and Charles use their powers on each other without realizing it and without the other's consent. Both of them enjoy it toroughlly though.  
> Brief mention of rape and drug use at the end.


End file.
